His Attention
by E.M.K.81
Summary: Summary: Meg Giry wants to get Erik's attention, but he does not care about her. So she thinks of a way to finally get his attention. Set in the London Version of Love Never Dies, instead of "Giry confronts the Phantom". AU


**His Attention**

 _Summary: Meg Giry wants to get Erik's attention, but he does not care about her. So she thinks of a way to finally get his attention. Set in the London Version of Love Never Dies, instead of "Giry confronts the Phantom". AU_

Meg Giry was disappointed and furious. It was the final rehearsal for the opening night which was to be in a few days only and he had not been there. She knew that he was bored with the rehearsals so he had left them to her mother who loved to be in charge of the show. But Erik's behavior was just childish. He had given them sheets of music and lyrics and then locked himself in his flat and refused to talk.

If they needed his advise or asked him if something was right or what he had meant with certain notes and stage directions he had either yelled at them to leave him in peace or told them to do whatever they wanted. Madame Giry had taken over, dismissing his behavior as "one of his moods", as she had always done. They knew Erik, sometimes he just was in such black mood, aggressive, unreasonable, full of self-pity. Then they better left him alone for he would not be able to control his temper. It was like a thunderstorm - better keep inside a house and wait for it to pass. Usually he came back after a few months with a new scheme, would work on that with much enthusiasm, but once it was more or less finished and he could sit back and enjoy it, he lost all interest and fell back into that black mood.

But this time Meg was no longer willing to accept his disinterest in his own affairs. Well, if it were only his own affairs, she thought bitterly. They were her's, her mother's and everyone else's who was employed by "Mister Y", his current pseudonym. If he failed, they all would lose everything they had - and if he threw it away in one of his black moods everything she had done for him so far would be in vain. The mere thought of having suffered so much for nothing was unbearable. She had to do something.

"Erik? May I come in?" she asked.

"No!" Of course the answer was no. Meg counted to five, then knocked again. "I said no!" he yelled. Yes, he was still in his aggressive mood, but he was already recovering, obviously he had come up with a new scheme he was pursuing now. Meg tried the door to his office. It was locked, of course, but she had a key. Only very few people had the key to his office, but sometimes he needed someone to fetch something for him so he gave his most trusted friends keys. Erik trusted few people enough to give them keys, Meg was among them. She wondered if he was doing the cleaning in his office himself for the cleaningwoman had no key and he hated her doing her job when he was there.

Meg opened the door to find Erik sitting at his desk, sketching something technical she didn't understand.

"Go away!" he snapped.

"Erik, this can't go on. You discourage all your employees who worked so hard on this show when you express nothing but contempt for the show which is yours. It is your music, your design, your show and yet you treat it like a rotten fruit," she said, gently, careful not to offend him.

"Just don't remind me..." he mumbled and continued to sketch something.

"The show is wonderful. Have you seen the costumes?"

Only an annoyed grunt answered her.

"I think they are a bit revealing but the audience likes that," Meg went on.

"If you say so..." He clearly hadn't listened to her.

"I know I'm a dancer but... did you hear me singing? Was it okay?" Meg asked.

Another annoyed grunt. Meg frowned. "Was I singing that bad?" she asked, feeling as if he had slapped her.

"Hmmm-hmmm" He clearly had not even noticed she was still there. His mind was somewhere else and his body functioned like one of the automatons he build. Meg wondered if it was an automaton she was talking to - but no, this couldn't be, his automatons could look lifelike, they could move like they were alive - but they had no voice. Not one of them could talk or sing, there was no way to give them a voice. Of course he could use one of the ingenious inventions called phonograph or gramophone but they produced much unwanted noise so no one would mistake it for an actual voice speaking.

"Am I really that bad as a singer? Why do you make me the lead if I am that bad?" Meg was almost crying now.

"What? O... no, not at all," he answered, obviously finally recognizing that she wanted to know if her singing was bad, "You're not bad."

"But not good either, eh?" she asked annoyed, "You weren't even there. How could you possibly know anything about **your** show? You haven't seen it, haven't heard it - do you even know that I am the lead?"

"Whatever you say..." he mumbled as if he hoped this might be the correct answer. It clearly wasn't.

"Erik, yell at me, hit me, throw me out - but kindly acknowledge that I am here and talking to you!" Meg fumed.

He looked up surprised at her anger. "Meg, don't you see that I am working? I have no time for hysterical females, not even you!" he snapped.

Meg was silent for a moment, waiting for him to say something, but he did not. He just went back to his work.

"I deserve better than this from you," Meg blurted out, not able to hold back her tears, "After all I've done for you, I deserve much better than that!"

Erik sighed and answered, without even looking up: "You want money? How much?"

"This is not about money!" Meg was close to sobbing, "It is about... hey, are you listening?"

He wasn't. He had already thrown a signed cheque at her and went to the door to his balcony, not wanting to deal with her any longer but at the same time not wanting to use physical force to remove her from his office. Meg wondered if it would have been easier to endure a good trashing - at least he would see her then.

Desperate times call for desperate measures. Meg decided that she would get his attention and she would get it now. She still wore her costume from the show which could be taken of in a split second because she needed to change the costume several times during the show. She reached for the button that held it in place and opened it, let the fabric fall to the floor. She stood there in her underwear, corset, underpants and stockings.

Erik's sharp intake of breath told her that she finally had his attention. Of course. He was just a man after all. She stepped out of her dress with a perfect dance step, putting on her stage-smile.

"Meg! What are you doing?" Erik asked, suddenly staring at her as if his eyes were glued to her form. It took some time until he remembered that he should better not stare. "Meg, for God's sake, girl - cover yourself!"

"Don't you like the view?" Meg asked, stretching her leg. She was standing on her left leg, the right one thrown up in the air over her head.

"No!" he gasped, but his eyes gave a clear "yes". He grabbed the coverlet from his couch and went to Meg, clearly trying to put it around her shoulders, which was impossible with her right foot above her head. Sometimes being a ballerina helped much, he didn't know what to do - he couldn't just push her or grab her leg. Or he could, but then he would never be able to call himself a gentleman without her laughing at him. "Meg..." he sounded a bit helpless, "Stop that! What would your mother say if she saw you like this? Standing before a man nearly naked?"

"Are you worried about my reputation or about yours?" Meg asked as she placed both feet on the floor again. Erik hurried to wrap her in the coverlet, covering her body shoulders to feet.

Only now he dared to grab her shoulders, looking in her face. "What is it, girl? Are you drunk? Or drugged? Tell me what it was, so I can tell the doctor!"

She laughed at him. "Nothing. I'm just happy that you finally acknowledge my presence in your office," she giggled, feeling utterly foolish.

"You are ill. Lie down and I call the doctor. If necessary we get the understudy..." He offered, suddenly showing concern - only for what? The show he despised so much?

She let the coverlet slip from her shoulders. He bent down to grab it, holding it in front of himself like a shield. "Girl, cover yourself!" she snapped.

"Why? What I can give every man for your sake I can as well give to you directly," Meg stated matter-of-factly. Erik's reaction made her laugh. He stared at her, shook his head, looked away, then shook his head again and stared at her, pointed at her with his right hand, tried to say something but obviously couldn't find any words. "Ah, I see," she purred, "Like every other man you are easily confused by the sight of a woman. Makes it hard to think, eh?"

"Meg Giry! What the hell is this all about?" he finally asked, not able to understand, or maybe just unwilling to see the truth.

"Didn't you ever wonder why some rich and mighty men changed their mind after they turned you down?" Meg asked. Surely he must have wondered why some men who had already said "no" would reconsider and give a rather reluctant "yes" or just resume negotiations which seemed to be unsuccessful. Could he be so egoistical and narcissistic to think it was only his charm and persuasiveness that had done the trick? Funny, she had never thought him to be narcissistic for she remembered all too well how much he had suffered to let Christine go - that he would have died for her.

Erik's eyes narrowed. "What are you trying to imply?" he asked coldly, clearly not liking what he heard.

"I bought their goodwill with my virtue," she told him, not angry or sad, certainly not hysterically, she just told him in the same voice she would have told him that she had decided to buy a different coffee variant for breakfast.

Erik stared at her, she thought his eyes would come out of their sockets. "You... you... what?" he stumbled, rather helpless and confused. It was almost funny, she had seen him that helpless long ago but not in the last five years.

"I did what I had to do to get their signature under the contract," Meg explained, "I couldn't bear to see our dream fail."

"But Meg... this is..." he was at a loss. What could he possibly say? "Is that true?" he finally asked, not really wanting to believe her.

"It is," she assured him, "Did you really never wondered what I was doing being invited to so many dates by your investors, by officials and politicians?"

"You had dates?" Erik asked, he hadn't known. Had he been blind? Or just too busy pitying himself to care what other people were doing?

"I hid it because I was ashamed - I hoped so much that you would, one day, see it and just acknowledge that I am as much part of Phantasma as you and mother are - I am not just some stage prop!" Meg snapped angrily, "Maybe even more for I sacrificed more than you two together to make our dream come true. And what are you doing? Ignoring everyone, refusing to see your own show in disgust and treating everyone like dirt! I deserve better than this!"

"Meg, please. Sit down and... for heaven's sake, girl, cover yourself!"

Meg grinned at the way he reacted every time she revealed herself. Was he scared? Ashamed? Or was he afraid of his reaction to seeing her only in her underwear? She sat down on the couch and covered herself with the coverlet. Erik sat down behind his desk, as far away from her as possible. He took off his wig and ran a hand over his nearly bald head and the unmasked half of his face. "I didn't know - and I did never want this. Tell me, did I involuntarily encourage this?" His voice was cold, absent, he was talking as if he was discussing a malfunctioning tool.

"You looked the other way - you looked only at yourself and yes, with your idea to have me at your side like a prized accessory at every little champagne party when celebrating some success or another you did encourage it. I thought... the way you presented me in public... I thought you loved me?"

"O god!" he moaned, "You took that for real? It was a show for the investors! I needed a beautiful woman at my side to make up for my... mask. It was as much an illusion as everything else in Phantasma! It was just... a nice little vaudeville show. Me, rich but ugly, and you, poor but beautiful - a fairy tale come true. But it was always just a show - had there been a more beautiful dancer in my employment I would have used her."

"Did you just tell me I'm beautiful?" Meg asked, refusing to let the rest of his explanation sink in.

"You are," he stated, "Meg, I... even if I benefited from... this, I never ever wanted it! This has to stop now!"

"Gladly," Meg answered, "But... now that you know, what are you going to do?"

"I wish I knew. Meg, I never wanted this. I'm sorry if I gave you false hopes - I never intended..." He trailed off, noticing how she winced at this. He was pushing the disturbing information away, was pushing her away, refusing to see what she had sacrificed to make his dream of being the master of his own little world of illusion come true. "What can I do, Meg? If its true, you are right and I owe you - something. It is difficult, how would one calculate your... virtue?" He was talking to her like she was one of his business partners, calculating the payment for a service.

"Calculate?" she gave a bitter laugh, "I guess you can't really repay me in money. All the money of the world wouldn't make up for what I've been through. I would never have done this for money - and I would never have done this if you had asked me to - I did it because I thought you loved me!"

"Poor Meg, it was but an illusion... as much as an illusion that Christine loved me," Erik sighed, suddenly realizing the tragic in their misunderstanding. He had always wanted to be loved, dreamed that someone would love him - and when a beautiful woman did love him so much that she sacrificed everything for his sake, he had not even noticed, as Christine had never noticed the extend of his love for her.

Somehow knowing she loved him did not bring any relief or any happiness. Just the stale taste that this was not what he wanted. He still wanted Christine. But if he tried again, if he tried to lure her to his private little world of illusion, would she accept him - or reject him like she had done once? It was a game of high stakes, he could win everything - or lose it.

"Meg, I am sorry," Erik said, "Really sorry. I know what it is like to love without any hope of being loved in return. If I had known I would never have done this to you."

"I thought you loved me!" Meg sniffed, "I thought you loved me and out of love I did... and now you hate me for it!"

"No, I do not hate you, Meg," Erik replied, not knowing how to deal with a nearly naked hysterical woman, "I just do not love you. But of course I am grateful." He didn't even want to think this through if he really was grateful - he felt like he ought to be, given her statement was really the truth, but he didn't know if he really felt anything like that. Could he call a doctor? What if anyone found Meg in that state of undress on his couch in his office, sobbing hysterically? He would lose any respect of his employees. Better help her calm down and take her to her flat when she was somehow coherent and dressed again.

He needed to calm her somehow, then he would try to verify her story somehow - if such thing was possible. And he would have a doctor seeing her, maybe she was drunk or drugged or whatever. He got up and went to sit beside her. "Meg, please... calm down. I did not mean to hurt you. I'm sorry. Of course I do not hate or despise you... no, I always rather liked you. You are a nice young woman and as long as I know you always tried to help others to a self-destructive excess. But I have never even guessed you might **love** me, unlovable creature that I am. I just... need time. Time to let this sink in, time to think."

Meg nodded. She had been so desperate for his approval that she had made a fool of herself - of course he would not love her now. She looked up, seeing him sitting next to her, but not touching her. She reached out for him before he could pull away and kissed him, his mask painfully pressing in her cheek and against one eye. It didn't matter. His lips were rough, feeling rather like parched leather than human lips, but it didn't matter. His breath smelled of some odd mixture of garlic and red wine, but it didn't matter. She kissed him.

When she finally broke the kiss she searched his eyes for that loving glaze he always had when he spoke of Christine. It was not there. Instead there was - pity. Nothing but pity. "I won't abandon you, Meg," he said softly, finally daring to touch her hand, "Come on, get dressed, then you go to your flat and get some sleep. Tomorrow..."

"Tomorrow you will pretend this had never happened!" Meg accused him.

"I said I won't leave you alone, Meg, I promised," he replied surprisingly calm.

"Why would I believe you now after everything that my life is build on turned out to be an illusion?" Meg demanded.

Erik sighed and looked at his hands. A ring on his left hand, the one ring he had given Christine and she had returned it to him before she left. It was just a sign of lost hope and fruitless dreams. He took it off. Meg deserved it as much as he did. They had both lost everything for the illusion of being loved. "Here - take it," he handed her the ring.

Meg stared at the ring in her hand, then she put it in. "Is that... what I think it is?" she asked.

"I don't know. What is it you're thinking?"

"That you could love me," she said.

"Not like I loved her, you know that, but maybe... Maybe I just grow accustomed to your presence in my life," he answered. If that was a wedding proposal, it was the most hilarious she had ever heard. It sounded more like one of the warning signs at the fairground rides. "Caution! Use at your own risk!" Meg had to laugh at the mere thought of it.

"You're not good in proposing, are you?" she asked.

"In my defence - the last time I proposed to a woman she sided with my rival to lure me into an ambush," Erik answered with a sad smile, "Maybe I should put up a warning sign: 'Deadly peril - keep away! Use at your own risk!' "

"You know that the 'deadly peril' signs only increase public interest in your thrill rides?" Meg asked with a smile, "I'd take that risk, you know." She reached out for him, trying to kiss him again, but he got up and moved away from her. "Just give me some time, Meg. I'm not easily tamed and... you have to know that you will always be second to Christine. If there was any chance that I could have her, I'd prefer her."

"As she preferred the Vicomte de Chagny."

"Don't mention that name!"

"I'm so sorry, but... maybe I know a way to make up for this lapse?" Meg asked, putting on her most seductive smile and letting the coverlet slip to the floor slowly. The way Erik stared at her told her that she hadn't miscalculated. He was just a man and as easily seduced as any other - maybe even more so because he had no wife, no mistress.

"Stop that!" Erik snapped, "I don't want to take advantage of you! I'm not one of those men!"

"What is it like to feel... desired?" Meg purred.

"Stop that, Meg, I don't... I'm ugly... I'm **really** ugly..." He used his ugliness as a shield to hide his fear. But she could see the veins in his neck protruding, sweat glistening at the edges of his mask.

"You can't possibly be uglier than all the men I've slept with for your sake," Meg informed him rather coldly, "We can always turn the light off. Or you can blindfold me."

His shocked expression told her that he had never thought of any intimacy between them before - he seemed to be scared. He was really frightened and this touched her deeply. "I'll be gentle with you," she promised, "and patient."

* * *

Six months later Erik woke and stretched. "Good morning," a certain blonde dancer greeted him, "Coffee is ready."

"How can anyone be wide awake this early in the morning?" Erik groaned and sat up. She had placed the fresh clothing for him on a chair and made breakfast. The mess from last night's dinner was already cleaned up. She was always ready to please him and he felt guilty that he didn't really feel love for her. He just loved the way she loved him, he experienced for the first time in his life what it was like to have someone really care for every detail of his life. He was becoming lazy, he mused, with her caring for him. But it was nice to just sit down and let her place a warm meal before him - he had already grown a belly - and get up earlier so he would have everything ready when he woke up. And, of course, some other benefits...

Of course he had not forgotten Christine, but he had given up on his scheme to destroy her marriage. At first he had just delayed his plan, thinking he would set the plan in action once Meg had recovered from her hysterical fit, but when he was sure she was strong enough he had thought that all of them would be better off if he would not try to get her back. They had all made their decision ten years ago - and he had let her go then, let her believe he was dead. He wouldn't put all of them through much pain - for just some tiny hope that she might reconsider, which was, given that she was married and had children, highly unlikely. The virtuous Christine wouldn't commit adultery and divorce was not accepted by Roman Catholic Church.

But he would lose Meg, the always helpful Meg who tried to anticipate his every wish and keep him happy, who endured his bad temper, his unreasonable fury, his ranting in self-pity and stood at his side, no matter what. She loved him. Why would he give up a woman who loved him, even if he didn't really love her, for another one, who did not love him, and if she did, she would never ever dare to admit that?

He looked at Meg who was walking to the windows to draw back the curtains. She looked wonderful in her negligee. "Can't I persuade you to give me another hour before I have to get up?" he asked.

"An hour?" Meg asked, grinning, "I didn't know you liked cold coffee?" She liked mornings. It was as if Erik's bad temper and black mood were asleep and it was just him who was awake.

"You could make new one," he teased.

"Have you forgotten the appointment with Mr. Smith, Mr. McMurray and Mr. O'Brian?" she asked, "Better get up now or you'll be late. And then there is the audition for the new show - do you want mother and me to make the decision ourselves or do you want to be there?"

"Whatever you think is best," he answered, not really wanting to deal with another audition.

"In the afternoon you have an appointment with your tax adviser and your lawyer. After that the audition for the new musicians for your orchestra. You want to make that decision yourself?" Meg went on. Erik wondered if she was a wandering appointment calendar.

"Yes, the music is my job. Evening?"

"I have one show this evening. After that... no, after the show I'm at your disposal."

"Is that so? Hmmmm..." They grinned at each other.

 _XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX_

 _I like happy endings. So I thought of a way Meg surely would have gotten his attention without threatening or killing anyone... ;-)_


End file.
